Torment
by Linik
Summary: Ranma wakes up in pain on a slab with no idea where he is. a Ranma 1/2 Planescape: Torment crossover.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes:_

Well I've been kicking this idea around for a while and finally decided to sit down and write it. I hope you enjoy it please R&R.

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Planescape: Torment_**

* * *

Ranma's PoV

I wince as pain surges through my body, my back feels like I'm been laying on a bed of glass for far too long, chest hurts too but not so bad. I start to think back to what could have caused this pain. Last thing I remember is Akane punting me through the roof with that damn mallet of hers for choking on her food and she assumed I was making fun of it. Well that might account for the head ache but not the pain in my back and chest, hell I'm just in pain. The next question is, where the hell am I?

Heh... I sound like Ryoga. I try to open my eyes and look around but find that to be a very bad idea, as a wave of nausea washes over me. I can tell I'm on something cold, hard and clearly metallic and it smells of blood and rot. Also I'm pretty sure I'm being moved. I hear soft moaning and footsteps and it sound like one foot is dragging, I feel whatever I'm on vibrating and bouncing like its on wheels being run across a rough tile floor. Then I feel it stop and what ever was pushing it walking and shuffling away.

"Come on Ranma." I think to myself "You've got to force yourself to get up. Stop being a girl." I scold myself lightly. I stay where I lay for a moment longer before gritting my teeth and forcing my eyes open. The ceiling is black and rather bleak looking, I sit up and swing my legs around on the slab I have been laying on and force myself to stand...

* * *

Normal PoV

Ranma swings his legs off the slab and stands wobbling a few times and braces himself on the slab and winces from the pain shooting through his body, He looks around slowly trying to see if he recognizes where he is, his musing is cut short by a voice behind him.

"Hey, chief. You okay? You playing corpse or you putting the blinds on the Dusties? I thought you were a deader for sure."

Ranma turns around and to his shock there is a floating skull in front of him.  
"Wh.. Who are you?" he asks in a rather shocked voice.

" Uh.. Who am 'I'? How about 'you' start? Who're you?" The skull asks in a dismissive manor.  
Ranma stares at the skull and suddenly feels irritated and replies.  
"I asked 'you' first skull."

The skull seems taken back by the change in Ranma's tone but none the less presses on " Yeah, 'an I asked you 'second.' what's your name?"

Ranma growls "You first, skull. It's the last time I'll ask."

The skull sighs and says "Tchhhh... you're tighter than a wet rope. All right, 'I'll' be the nice guy here. Name's Morte. Who're you?"

Ranma thinks for a moment then starts to answer "I... I'm...My name is..." suddenly he feels a wave of nausea washes over him and he sways for a moment. He feels his memories jumble and he can't seem to think strait much less remember anything at all.

Morte rolls his eye around and seems rather amused "Can't remember your name chief... Wel-" the skull starts to say but is cut off.

"My name is Ranma." Ranma says with a strained voice. As he feels the few memories he can grasp onto finally settle in his mind. He feels odd at the fact that it feels like there is much more that he can't seem to remember. Like a life or great many lives after the point that he can remember up to.

Morte seems rather taken back and very surprised. "Well 'least you 'remember' your name. Heh. Well, NEXT time you spend a night in this berg, go easy on the bub. Anyway I'm trapped in here too." The skull says seeming to be trying to change the subject.

Ranma looks around and then back at Morte before saying "Trapped?"

"Yeah, since you haven't had time to get your legs yet here's the chant: I've tried all the doors, and this place is locked tighter than a chastity belt." The skull says with an amused chuckle.

Ranma looks around again the nausea and unsteadiness dulling then he says "We're locked in... where? What is this place?"

Morte sighs and rolls his eyes again "It's called the 'Mortuary'... it's a big black structure with all the architectural charm of a pregnant spider."  
Ranma's eyes widen he knew that name; a mortuary is a place for dead people.

" 'The Mortuary?' What... am I dead?" He asks in a more than worried tone.

Morte shakes his skull and replies "Not from where I'm standing..." Ranma gives him a blank stair "Okay... floating. You got scars a-plenty though... looks like some berk painted you with a knife. All the more reason to give this place the laugh before whoever carved you up comes back to finish the job."

Ranma blinks and says "Scars? How bad are they?"

"Well... the carvings on your chest aren't TOO bad... but the ones on your back..." Morte pauses and looks carefully at Ranma's back "Say, looks like you've got a whole tattoo gallery on your back, Chief. Spells out something..."

Ranma tries to look over his shoulder to see the tattoos.  
"Tattoos on my back? What do they say?"

Morte chuckles and says "Heh! Looks like you come with directions..." Morte clears his throat or makes a sound like it "Let's see... it starts with..."

' I know you feel like you've been drinking a few kegs of Styx wash, but you need to CENTER yourself. Among your possessions is a JOURNAL that'll shed some light on the dark of the matter. PHAROD can fill you in on the rest of the chant, if he's not in the dead-book already.'

Ranma looks very confused and says "Pharod...? Does it say anything else?"  
"Yeah, there's a bit more..." Morte pauses before continuing. "Let's see... it goes on..."

' Don't lose the journal or we'll be up the Styx again. And whatever you do, DO NOT tell anyone WHO you are or WHAT happens to you, or they'll put you on a quick pilgrimage to the crematorium. Do what I tell you: READ the journal, then FIND Pharod'

Ranma reaches behind him and lightly touches his back wincing again "No wonder my back hurts; there's a damn novel written there. As for the journal I'm supposed to have with me... was there one with me while I was laying here?"

Morte looks around and shakes his skull. "No... You were stripped to the skins when you arrived here. 'Sides looks like you got enough of a journal penned on your body."

"What about Pharod? Do you know him?"

"Nobody I know... but then again I don't know many people. Still, SOME berk's got to know where to find Pharod... uh, once we get out of here, that is."

Ranma eyes the floating skull for a moment then looks around again then back at the skull and asks.  
"How 'do' we get out of here?"

"Well, all the doors are locked, so we'll need a key. Chances are, one of the walking corpses in this room has it."

"Walking corpses?" Ranma gaps slightly and then looks around the room again and notices that all the people in the room are indeed walking corpses. 'How did I miss that?' he thinks to himself.

"Yeah, the Mortuary keepers use dead bodies as cheap labor. The corpses are dumb as stones, but they're harmless, and won't attack you unless you attack first." Morte says rolling his eyes.

"Is there some other way? I don't want to hurt them just for a key."

"What, you think it's going to hurt their feelings? They're DEAD. But if you want a bright side to this: if you 'kill' them, at least they'll have a rest before their keepers raise them up to work again." The skull says seeming amused at Ranma's unwillingness to kill.

Ranma sighs and nods. "Well, alright... I'll take one of them down and get the key."

Morte clicks his teeth together and nods. "One last thing: Those corpses are slow as molasses, but getting punched by one is like kissing a battering ram. If they start getting an edge on you, remember you can RUN, and they can't."

Ranma chuckles and flashes a cocky smirk. "Thanks but I won't need to, I'm the best martial artist in the world."

The skull rolls its eyes again and says. "Whatever you say chief."

Ranma slowly starts to make his way around the room, his stiff joints loosening. He finds his way over to a work table with a polished steel platter with a scalpel on it, he moves the scalpel and looks at himself on the platter. What he sees is not the face he remembered, his skin is a sickly pale gray, his face is covered in thousands possibly hundreds of thousands of scars covering every inch of his face even his eyelids. The rest of his body is no better, covered in scars big and small not an inch with out one. His hair was tangled and matted with colored beads woven into his bangs and pigtail. The only thing that seemed unchanged were his eyes, still a stormy blue.

'Kami what happened to me?' he thinks to himself his thoughts are interrupted by Morte.

"Hey, I know you're a real stunner Chief, but let's find that key and give this place the laugh eh?"

Ranma nods and puts the platter down. "Yeah let's go."

* * *

Linik: Well I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Torment. I promise there will be plenty of action in the next chapter. But for now my brain hurts so I'm going to go get a soda.

Linik: Well I decided to take a stab at cleaning it up a little.

Please R&R


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Notes:_

I know it's been a while sence I posted the first chapter. Lifes been hell, but here it is at long last.

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Planescape: Torment_**

* * *

Chapter 2

Ranma slowly walked toward some of the zombies but was stopped by Morte. "Hey chief? Umm shouldn't you find a weapon or something?"

Ranma glances at the skull and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm a martial artist… I don't need weapons."

"If you say so chief."

Ranma continues on his way toward one of the zombies.

The shambling corpse looks like it has been dead for several years. The skin along its forehead has pealed back, revealing its chalk-white skull. Someone has chiseled the number '569' into the exposed bone.

"I'm looking for a key… do you happen to have one?" Ranma asks dumbly.

"Uh, chief… they can't hear you, all right? They're dead."

"But you're dead. And you're talking to me."

"Yeah, but 'I'm' special. Death couldn't kill my zest for life. These corpses here…" Morte rolls his eyes. "They probably didn't have much personality to begin with."

"I… see." Ranma says as he looks back at the zombie.

"Look, chief… watching you trying to swap the chant with these corpses isn't doing much for my morale. Let's leave the corpse-talk for the barmies, all right?"

Ranma nods and scans over the corpse not seeing a key he says. "All right, then. Let's go."

Ranma walks to the next zombie in the room and looks over it carefully. Its head lolls back and forth on its shoulders. Judging from the angle of the neck, it looks like it may have been hung. The number '825' has been painted on the side of its head. It doesn't seem to be carrying anything so Ranma decides to leave it in peace.

Ranma turns his gaze to the last zombie in the room and walks towards it. It stops and stares blankly at him as he approaches. The number '782' is carved into its forehead, and its lips have been stitched shut. The faint smell of formaldehyde emanates from the body. Ranma's eyes are drawn to its hands as it appears to be holding a key with a death grip.

Ranma sighs and reaches foreword and tries to tug it free of the creatures' hand, it responds by swinging its other arm clumsily at Ranma who easily dodges the arm and spins around kicking the zombie in the head.

A 'thunk' is heard as the head of the zombie bounces off the wall and then rolls across the floor. The zombies' body falls to the ground lifelessly.

Morte makes a whistling sound. "Weee… Damn chief, I didn't think you had it in you. I doubt the Dusties will be putting him back to work…"

Ranma stares stupidly at the body. "But…..I didn't hit it very hard…."

"Heh, what'd you expect chief. It's probably been in here dead and rotting for a while."

"I guess." Ranma says as he reaches down and pries the key loose from the corpses' hand. He walks to the door in the room and unlocks it, walking out into a larger room Morte hurries next to him.

"Pssst… Some advice, chief: I'd keep it quiet from here on – no need to put any more corpses in the dead book than necessary… especially the femmes. Plus, killing them might bring the caretakers here."

Ranma blinks. "I don't think you mentioned it before… 'who' are these caretakers?"

The skull seems to shudder slightly. "They call themselves 'Dustmen.' You can't miss 'em: They have an obsession with black and rigor mortis of the face. They're an addled bunch of ghoulish death-worshippers; they believe everybody should die… sooner better than later."

"I'm confused… why do these Dustmen care if I escape?"

"Weren't you listening?!" The skull says in a slightly raised voice. "I said the Dusties believe EVERYBODY'S got to die, sooner better than later. You think the corpses you've seen are happier in the dead book than out of it?"

Ranma sighs and nods. "Okay…." Looks at Morte and then around the room his eyes fall onto a female zombie. "Before you said something about making sure I don't kill any 'female' corpses. Why?"

Morte's jaw unhinges slightly. "Wh – are you 'serious?' Look chief, these dead chits are the last chance for a couple of hardy bashers like us. We need to be 'chivalrous' … no hacking them up for keys, no lopping off their limbs….or heads, things like that."

"Last chance? What are you 'talking' about skull?"

"Chief, THEY'RE dead, WE'RE dead… see where I'm going? Eh? Eh?" Morte says as he clicks his teeth together suggestively.

"No… no, I don't, actually."

"Chief, we already got an opening line with these limping ladies. We've 'all' died at least once: we'll have something to talk about. They'll appreciate men with our kind of death experience."

Ranma's eyes widen "Wait… didn't you say that I'm 'not' dead?"

"We'll… all right, 'you' might not be dead, but 'I' am. And from where I'm standing, I wouldn't mind sharing a coffin with some of these fine, sinewy cadavers I see here." Morte starts clicking his teeth, as if in anticipation. "Course, the caretakers would have to part with them first, and that's not likely…"

"But where do all these corpses come from?"

"Death visits the Planes every day, chief. These shambles are all that's left of the poor sobs who sold their bodies to the caretakers after death."

Ranma nods. "All right… I'll… try to remember that."

Morte shakes his skull and chuckles. "Look, chief. It's obvious you're still a little addled from your kiss with death, so I got a bit of advice: if you got questions, 'ask' me, all right? Otherwise you'll end up in the crematorium for sure…"

Ranma nods again. "All right… if I have questions, I'll ask you. Let's go."

Ranma starts to make his way across the room and past several zombies and when he passes one of the females he hears Morte say. "Psssst. You see the way she was looking at me? Huh? You see that? The way she was following the curve of my occipital bone?"

Ranma raises an eye brow in amusement and says. "You mean that blank-eyed beyond-the-grave stare?"

"Wha – are you BLIND?! She was scouting me out! It was shameless the way she WANTED me." The skull shrieks.

Ranma chuckles. "Whatever, Morte. Let's go."

Ranma and Morte come to the end of the room and to another door. Ranma give it a slight shove and if opens, he turns and looks at Morte and grins slightly.

"Well, chief. Looks like lady luck was on our side with this door eh?" The skull says.

Ranma nods and scans the room his eyes to rest on an old man sitting in front of a massive book. Ranma studies him carefully, he can tell he's human he has chi unlike the walking corpses which seem to have something else keeping them vertical. The old mans chi showed no sign of a threat so he walk towards him. As Ranma gets closer he gets a better look at the old man; he has a quill in his hand and seems to be a scribing much onto the huge book. He looks very old… his skin wrinkled and has a slight trace of yellow, like old parchment. Charcoals-gray eyes lie within an angular face, and a large white beard flows down the front of his robes like a waterfall. His breathing is ragged and irregular, but even his occasional coughing does not slow the scratching of his quill pen.

Ranma look at the book and then back at the old man and says " Umm… Hello.."

Morte pipes up in a panic. "Whoa, chief! What are you doing?"

"I was going to speak with this scribe. He might know something about how I got here."

"Look, rattling your bone-box with Dusties should be the LAST thing –" Before Morte could finish his rant, the scribe begins coughing violently. After a moment or two, the coughing spell dies down, and the scribe's breathing resumes its ragged wheeze.

"And we 'especially' shouldn't be swapping the chant with sick Dusties. C'mon, let's leave. The quicker we give this place the laugh, the bet --" Before Morte could finish, the scribe's gray eyes flicker toward Ranma.

"The weight of years hangs heavy on me, Restless One." He places down his quill. "…but I do not yet count deafness among my ailments."

"Restless one?" Ranma asks slowly. "Do you know me?"

"Do I know you? I…" There is a trace of bitterness in the scribe's voice as he speaks. "I have 'never' known you, Restless One. No more than you have known yourself." He in silent for a moment. "For you have forgotten, have you not? Forgotten everything past… a wooden hammer to your head..After a failed wedding."

Ranma looks at the old scribe in shock. "Who 'are' you?"

"As always, the question. And the wrong question, as always." He bows slightly, but the movement suddenly sends him into a bout of coughing. "I…" He pauses for a moment, catching his breath. "I… am Dhall."

"Perhaps you can answer some questions for me, Dhall…"

"Very well. What do you wish to know?"

"How did I get here?"

Dhall snorts in contempt, as if he finds the memory repugnant. "Your moldy chariot ferried you to the Mortuary, Restless One. You would think you were royalty based on the number of loyal subjects that lay stinking and festering upon the cart that carried you."

Ranma blinks. "I arrived on a cart?"

"Yes… your body was somewhere in the middle of the heap, sharing its fluids with the rest of the mountain of corpses." Dhall breaks into another violent fit of coughing, finally catching his breath minutes later. "Your 'seneschal' Pharod was, as always, pleased to accept a few moldy coppers to dump the lot of you at the mortuary gate."

"Doesn't sound like you like Pharod much."

"There are some I respect, Restless One." Dhall takes a ragged breath and steadies himself. "Pharod is not one of them. He wears his ill repute like a badge of honor and takes liberties with the possessions of the dead. He is a Knight of the Post, cross-trading filth of the lowest sort."

"Knight of the Post?" Ranma asks.

"A Knight of the Post…" Dhall coughs"…a thief. All Pharod brings to our walls come stripped of a little less of their dignity than they possessed in life. Pharod takes whatever he may pry from their stiffening fingers."

"Do you know where I can find Pharod?"

"If events persist as they have, Restless One, you have a much greater chance of Pharod finding you and bringing you to us again before you find whatever ooze puddle he wallows in this time."

"Nevertheless, I must find him."

A slight warning creeps into Dhall's tone. "Do not seek out Pharod, Restless One. I am certain that it would simply come full circle again, with you none the wiser and Pharod a few coppers richer. Accept death, Restless One. Do not perpetuate your circle of misery."

"I 'have' have to find him. Do you know where he is?" Ranma asks

Dhall is silent for a moment. When he finally speaks he seems to do so reluctantly. "I do not know which gutterstone Pharod lairs at the moment, but I imagine that he can be found somewhere beyond the Mortuary gates, in the Hive. Perhaps someone there will know where you can find him."

Ranma looks at the old man again and says. "I will go there and ask around then. Farewell."

As Ranma turns to leave, Dhall speaks. "Know this: I do not envy you, Restless One. To be reborn as you would be a curse that I could not bear. You must come to terms with it. At some point your path will return you here…" Dhall coughs, the sound rattling in his throat. "It is the way of all things flesh and bone."

Ranma smiles and waves. "Then perhaps we will meet again, Dhall."

* * *

Linik: Well I know I promised more action in this chapter... sorry about that.. Anyway I have a few things I'd like peopls to vote on. Who should be Ranma's dead lover? Nabiki? Kasumi? Ukyo?... Akane is not an opption...

Please R&R


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